


They Have Come To Take Your Life

by besito



Series: when the monster finally- [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23923972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besito/pseuds/besito
Summary: A phantom thumb sweeps along the curve of his jaw, he can hear the dangerously low timber of Billy's voice. "Baby... I'll fucking kill them."Except Billy is dead and Steve is alone.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: when the monster finally- [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724560
Comments: 20
Kudos: 105





	They Have Come To Take Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'The Four Horsemen' by Metallica
> 
> constructive criticism appreciated! but please be kind, a gal can only take so much rejection y'know
> 
> I finally edited this!! Changed some things around, spiced it up a lil bit you know how it goes

In the summer of '85, there are over thirty funerals in the town of Hawkins, Indiana. The papers spin tales of faulty wiring and other mundane things that all point to the exploding of the new Starcourt mall being an accident; which it was- but only if you count government cover up in the same category. Half of the Scoops Troop will still be recovering from nonFDA approved drugs even weeks later and Steve's face will remain mottled with dark marks and a split bottom lip that'll probably scar.

__

A phantom thumb sweeps along the curve of his jaw, he can hear the dangerously low timber of Billy's voice. _"Baby... I'll fucking kill them."_

But when Steve opens his eyes, he's alone and Billy is still dead. He'd watched him die with the rest of his fucked up friend group, watched a body made out of bodies skewer him. He'd barely stumbled down the steps in time to hear his gasping breaths, watch Billy's eyes swivel from Max to him, hear his last "I'm sorry" and think, _there's_ nothing _, nothing nothing nothing you ever have to be sorry for._

And when Max started to shriek and sob, Steve stuffed it all away, stepped over Billy's body like it was nothing, like he was nothing. Like Billy hadn't approached him out of the blue, hadn't apologized, hadn't laid on the hood of the camaro next to him, hadn't kissed him, hadn't gasped into his mouth _"come with me"_ and he'd gathered Max into his arms and carried her away. 

He'd stayed with her until Susan Hargrove tore through the crowd like only a mother could, Neil right behind her and then he stayed for just a bit longer because " _where's my son"_ and Max sobbed so hard she'd stopped breathing. Steve had never had to tell someone that their child was dead, never had to deal with that kind of fallout. He hoped he never had to again. Because the thing is-

Maybe William Hargrove died a hero, maybe he'd saved his baby sister and her weird friends, maybe he'd finally earned his father's respect in death the way he never could in life but it wasn't enough. And maybe it was a selfish thought but Steve would prefer Billy alive and a villain over dead and a hero. 

___

"Hey, Harrington! Man, wait up." Steve slows to a stop and watches as Hargrove hurriedly snuffs out his cigarette on the red brick of the highschool. He isn't really sure why he's waiting but his mom used to say he was too forgiving for his own good. 

"You need something, Hargrove?" He raises his voice to be heard as Billy jogs to meet him and if Steve didn't already know what Billy looked like murderous, he'd think Billy was coming over to finish what he should've in November. Steve raises an eyebrow, feigning impatience when the silence stretches on. Hargrove huffs, as if it's _Steve_ that's inconveniencing him and looks up at the sky like he's praying for divine intervention. _God, please give me the strength not to bash this motherfuckers face in. Again_. The hint of a smile must show on his face cause when Billy finally looks at him again, he narrows his eyes into slits, leans forward and raises his eyebrows as if to say _whats so funny_ but instead follows up with something almost as shocking as the upside down.

"That night, at the Byers," He starts haltingly. "I'm sorry." 

"Hargrove-" 

"I thought I killed you.. when I woke up in that creepy fucking house by myself, I don't- I don't wanna be that person, so, I'm sorry." 

___

Distantly, Steve watches from the back of an ambulance as Ms. Byers gathers El into her arms and he knows, he knows, _he knows_ that Hop is gone too. 

___

"I miss the way it smells the most."

"The way it _smells_?" Steve snickers, a slow grin spreading across his face, it's only the second time they've hung out and it feels almost too normal, too easy. There's still tense moments but (and he hates to admit it, even to himself because the kids are a hoot) but it really is nice to hang out with someone his own age again. Billy rolls his eyes good-naturedly and passes the joint back. 

"You could smell the ocean from miles away. Even when it didn't look like you were anywhere near it. It was… comforting." Billy speaks about the ocean reverently and Steve is enthralled, digs through his memories in hope of finding something he'd loved half as much as Billy loves California. But the thing is, he hasn't loved it here in a long time. Maybe he used to love it more, before it was just him and an empty house. (before faceless entities and their home dimension carved it's way into every place he'd ever felt safe.)

The pool, the quarry, the old, now rotten pumpkin patch, the woods just behind his house; those places had all been home once. All haunted by tunnels and Barb and a flashing camera. Steve wonders if he'll only be able to love Hawkins from a distance now, the same way his parents love him.

___

By the time Steve arrives at the ever empty Harrington residence, the adrenaline has completely worn off. His legs shake with exhaustion, barely able to carry him to the couch before he collapses. His entire body feels like one giant throbbing pulse.

_"Baby," Familiar fingers comb through his hair. "Baby, wake up." Cool, blue eyes meet his and Steve has long since grown accustomed to waking up with Billy looming over him. Pretty, pink lips smiling softly, Billy's thumb traces down the side of Steve's neck. "Pretty boy." He can't help but smile sleepily at the now familiar and welcome endearment and his smile only grows impossibly wider when Billy leans down to press his lips to Steve's cheek and stays for a long moment, a current of curly, blond hair shielding them from the rest of the world._

"Steve. Steve, honey, wake up. Stephen! James-"

"Mom?" Barely a croak comes out but it seems to be enough for Marcella Harrington. Watery, green eyes meet his, a parody of his foggy dream. It's disconcerting to realize that the soft hand petting him belongs to her and he absently wishes it was Billy with him, petting his hair like that.. His stomach lurches and he sits up too quickly, body protesting vehemently and reminding him of the events of the past few days.

"Oh, honey, don't talk. I'll get you some water." It's strange to see her carefully crafted image crack. Her voice wobbly and breaking, eyes bloodshot, and clothes clearly wrinkled. Steve almost doesn't notice his dad standing just outside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, stoic as ever. If nothing else, James certainly has a presence, not nearly as comforting as it should be, almost alien in the way it feels to see him standing there. 

Billy stood there a million times which was about a million more times than his dad ever had. First, when he was being overly careful, trying to be respectful of Steve's space and then it progressed to him standing there and watching on fondly as Steve slept or cleaned or, or did whatever it was he was doing. Hopper had stood there too, watched as El played the boys stupid nerd game, the one Steve couldn't grasp for the life of him and Steve had watched until Hopper turned around, absent minded smile on his face and that was what a parent looked like, that was what a good man looked like and it should be him standing there _(and it should be Billy standing there, it should. Steve would give up James Harrington for a heartbeat so familiar it aches knowing it's not still out there. He would give up his own father just so El could still have one.)_

"I'm gonna throw up-" Steve gasps, staggering to his feet. He makes it to the toilet just in time and when he opens his eyes again, he's back on the couch, plastic bag filled trashcan next to him.

___

His lips are soft, softer than Nancys, softer than any girl he's ever kissed before. Billy throws himself back with a startled noise like he hadn't meant to do that, stumbling as he slides right off the hood of the camaro. And there's no excuse, he's sober, they both are but Billy's eyes are wide and glassy, cheeks flushed deep. He looks terrified, like he's a fraction of an inch away from crying or puking. 

"I-"

"Come back here." Steve whispers because it's all he wants to say every time Billy pulls away from him and now he knows, _he knows._ This isn't safe, not in a place like Hawkins but right here, right now... This time, Steve's the one who reels Billy in by his collar and kisses him breathless. 

___

The funeral is beautiful. Steve hates it. It's closed casket, which is probably for the fucking best, can only imagine what he'd do if he had to see Billy in that fucking box. There's a beautiful woman with curly blonde hair and blue eyes standing at the back of the crowd. And it is a _crowd_ , Billy died a hero after all. Steve can't stop turning around, can't stop staring; there's no question now that Billy got all of his looks from his mother.

Steve's parents chose to come with him to the funeral, even against his insistence that they didn't have to. He knows they're worried about him and not just his future for once, probably because when they got home two days _after_ the exploding mall incident, he'd still been dressed in his Scoops uniform. Still bloodied and bruised and passed out on the couch like he hadn't moved in two days, which he _hadn't,_ so. It doesn't matter if they're worried, it's several years too late. 

___

"I used to call everyday, several times a day. Until Neil got fed up and tore the phone from the wall." Billy always speaks of his father with such a casualness and it's not all bad but the bad is, well, really bad and it irks Steve. Probably in the same way it irks Billy when Steve talks about every missed birthday, holiday, weekend, like it's nothing. (Because it is, because it's normal, because loneliness isn't something you can charge someone with.)

He ghosts his fingers along Billy's ribs and Billy retaliates by ruffling Steve's already shot to hell hair. 

"You deserve better." He peppers kisses along Billy's chest, his collarbone, his neck, his face. Steve can't ever make up for what other people have done or will do but that doesn't mean he won't try to ease the sting, chase the lemon with some honey.

"I wish she had at least let me beg to go with her, maybe then I could hate her for leaving." Billy spreads large hands along Steve's sides and hauls him up so their faces are level. "At least this way I got to meet you." Steve snorts and pushes Billy's face away when he tries to go in for a kiss. 

"Cheeser!" Billy digs his fingers into the meat of Steve's thigh, listens to him shriek and giggle.

"You love it." _You love me._

"Yeah, I really fucking do."

___

It's as shocking to Steve as it seems to be to Lillian that he'd approached her, his feet just carried him off without his say so.

"He really loved you." His voice comes out steadier than he thinks it should've while stumbling over past tense and present tense. "I hope you know that." Her face is too familiar, the blonde of her hair and her eyes even bluer while bloodshot, it hurts too much.

"You were a friend of-" Steve can't help it, cuts her off because he doesn't think he'll survive if she says his name.

"You shouldn't have left him, you should've taken him with you." It sounds desperate, like by saying it, he could go back in time and change everything. Maybe Dustin knows how to build a time machine.

___

_He's standing underneath the opening to the tunnels, Dustin pressed against the dirt wall behind him. The dogs are coming up fast, there isn't enough time. Fuck fuck fuck. He pushes Dustin through the hole and then tries to scramble up behind him but it's closing. The ground warping above his head. It's closing and he's gonna be stuck down here and the kids are screaming, trying to dig at the earth but nothing is working. If anything, it closes faster and he just has enough time to see Dustin's terrified face before the tunnels swallow him whole and sharp,_ sharp _teeth-_

"Baby, come on, wake up. Steve, it's just a nightmare, come on, Stevie,- pretty boy, wake up!" The lamp on the bedside table is on, Billy's sitting on his knees facing Steve and looking absolutely terrified and Steve feels guilty. He feels so guilty but he can't _breath_. "It's okay, baby, it's okay." Billy walks forward on his knees and that's what Steve focuses on, the sheets barely clinging to Billy's muscular thighs, the way it wrinkles, the way it feels- and he usually likes it but- but it's slippery, so slippery and he's losing his footing. How is he going to get out if he can't even plant his feet?

"Okay, okay. Steve, look at me." Billy says firmly, clearly out of his depth but trying and, and isn't that so sweet. Nancy never- Nope, don't think about Nancy. Instead, Steve slumps forward until his forehead rests against Billy's neck, who takes it as the invitation it is, brings warm hands to run up and down Steve's back. And the heat helps, helps in ways Billy will hopefully never know because the- that _thing_ couldn't survive, could never survive in Billy's warmth. ___

____

_(But it could and it would and it did.)_

**Author's Note:**

> Not only my first published harringrove fic but my first EVER harringrove fic!! A little rough, I know but I'm not accustomed to writing like this, learn and let learn, right? This is meant to be a series and I'm pretty hyped for it rn but we'll see


End file.
